Feathers on my Breath
by Sera22
Summary: A young woman tries to accommodate herself to her new life in Masyaf. Contains our favorite characters Malik and Altaïr. Currently on hiatus, sadly. If anybody wants to beta this story then please e-mail me!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Sad but true.

**A/N: **This is a story I came up a week ago. OC in it, please don't flame me, it's my first fanfic and I hope it is not a wholly Mary Sue! R&R!

XXX

"Malik!" the woman cried over the streaming people. She waved continuously and tried to jump a little to look over the crowd to her destination.

"Maïssa!! You finally made it!" answered the tanned man happily. He started to jog to her.

The crowd was parting unwillingly first but when they got sight of the white uniform the man was wearing they halted shortly and stood aside to let him get to her.

Finally he stood in front of her. She had changed again since his last visit on a mission in Jerusalem twelve months ago.

Suddenly he remembered her what she looked like in her childhood: Almost black thick hair like his own that was always billowing furiously behind her when she chased after chickens in her infancy. The huge sparkling black almond-shaped eyes, the tiny figure, barely molded. Her skin tanned by birth and without a mark. The image of this past let him smile wide.

Now there stood a young woman with the very hair spilling under her loose veil and the very eyes but the infantile expression was gone and replaced by true beauty and a wholy feminine appearance.

After endless seeming seconds they embraced each other.

"Welcome to Masyaf, little sister!" Malik introduced her and held out his hand, pointing at the huge castle that loomed over the two.

The sun was high in the sky and blinding the siblings. It was getting hotter each minute they stood while the crowd of the ascending folk flooded around them. They brought large packages and boxes from the next city to Masyaf to supply the inhabitants with fresh goods they could not make themselves. It was a huge convoy with which she had come. A lot waggons with oxen clamped in the front rolled dully passed by and even some new animals were dragged behind.

"You look very well. The brotherhood is very becoming to you," Maïssa said.

Malik nodded "Yes, but I also have a lot of work to do to even out the outstanding treatment by the kitchens," he stroked his almost not existing round belly with one dark hand, winking.

"Wait until I get a say in the food dispensation!" she laughed and he joined her in her humour.

"Come!" He snatched her medium-sized bag from her.

They walked arm in arm to the castle that now shaded them of the merciless sun.

He was thrilled beyond belief that she had eventually given in his constant begging that she would move close to him. The time of the third crusade was on its maximum, the apparently never ending war was taking its toll and everyone tried to secure his family by some means or other.

And so Malik had tried to convince Maïssa, his beloved younger sister, to relocate since his first day in Masyaf. There was a lot of labor around the brotherhood especially for women like Maïssa, trained very well in the assignment of housekeeping due to their mother. But not in her own houshold had she worked the solitary person that she was. Instead she had worked in several taverns for the last four years. Even she had gathered experience in a bathhouse in Jerusalem before.

No, the upcoming tasks that were to be asked of her were not of her concern.

She hoped that she would not often have encounters with many of the brothers besides her own brother in blood. Her future, like she invisioned, was leading a calm life around the rural character of the village outside the castle with chores she did not have to adjust to.

Little did she knew that all her life was to turn upside down from the moment she set foot on the terrain of Al-Mualim.

XXX

Away from the big city Jerusalem Maïssa once called home and where she lived the most part of her twenty-two years, in her first two weeks in Masyaf she found out that it was a sheer fathomless territory with its endless hallways and passages, never-ending stairways, huge dining rooms and the big library of Al-Mualim. Let alone the landscape around the castle.

But eventuelly she managed to blend in the female workers employed at the kitchens and starting to enjoy her new life.

Malik visited her almost every day and she was quickly absorbed in the circle of females.

Infact her intention to occupy a house in the village came to nothing but nevertheless the tiny but neat room she was given served the purpose.

It was early in the morning and Maïssa was on her way to her workplace. She was delayed by a wrong turn she took a few minutes ago, scolded herself for her lack of attention and tried to clear her mistake by running to the quarter she asumed to be the right way to the kitchens.

She didn't want to dissapoint Raul, the man in charge of the group of servants of Al-Mualim's brotherhood.

The next thing she knew was the brick wall she bumped into and the imense pain that shot through her shoulder and hip when she hit the floor with a thud.

"Oww… Didn't think this one was a dead end..." she muttered under her breath.

"That would be because this is no one," said a smooth deep voice in front of her.

She blinked and tried to focus. A male hand came into view. She recognized the outstretched limb, took it and let herself be lifted.

The man in front of her had a white robe on just like Malik's and was heavily armed. Unmistakable an assassin.

"Oh I'm so sorry, sir! I'm inconsolable!" she rambled.

His face betrayed a least sign of a smile. Now this made her angry and she frowned. Did he make fun of her?

He still had her hand in his and gazed under his hood what looked like ridicule to her and curiosity. When she noticed this she quickly withdrew her hand and tried to walk around him agitated. This one was unnerving, she thought.

She took off running and all he could do in his puzzled state of mind was look after her retreating form.

Around the next corner Maïssa came to a halt when she saw the familiar entrance of the serving area. Taking a deep breath and readjusting her attire her independent nature quickly berated herself for letting herself intimidated by this appearence.

What was she thinking? 'Get over with this and let's work!" she thought immediately.

The rest of the day was as always, much to her liking.

XXX

Good? Bad? Continue? Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Again, I own nothing. But I do own my character Maïssa.

**A/N:** Thank you all, dear reviewers! Now here is my second part of my little story. I hope you like it and I really appreciate your advice! I tried very hard to make this a good chapter.

Unfortunately I am not fully aware of all detailed circumstances back then so please bear with me and asume all that's not historically correct, is then based on my imagination.

Now enjoy!

* * *

Part 2

In spite of his recent demanding mission past week, Altaïr woke early in the morning as usual. There was no way to prolong his sleep, now less than ever with the increasing commotion of war looming minaciously over him.

The gravity of the situation left nobody untouched. Least of all a master assassin, who could not have been more mired in the struggle for power of the warlords, kings, governors and all the other men benefitting from the war.

His declared goal, the promised paradise always kept in mind, Altaïr was able to blind out the terror of war during the day. But in his sleep when the inner protective barrier of his soul was also resting, the images came flooding back again and again. Gruesome visions of his victims or battered innocents crossed his dreams almost every night since his very first assassination.

The nightmares had came nearly ten years ago. And remained.

And that was why the light layer of sweat was on Altaïr's body when he woke and betrayed his abating bad dream once again.

Stretching his dazed condition slowly died down.

He grimaced and stood starting with his morning rituals.

The sun was not yet up, there was a strange darkness threatening before finally the break of dawn would come.

Regardless of that Altaïr would take off to the stablings like every morning when he would wake up in Masyaf. His first mission on this day was attending to his horse.

It was his faithful companion on his every mission. The stunning, black Arab typically surprised Altaïr somehow or other with his beneficial attributes: strong, always attentive, understanding with few commands what his master needed to be done in dangerous situations.

And of course he was fast as the wind!

Whinnying the beast greeted him, waiting impatiently for this morning ritual by kicking with his hoofs a few more holes in the wood of the stable.

"Shh...!" Altaïr tried to reassure him and picked up his brushes.

The assassin felt himself relaxing while he never ceased the permanent grooming and brushing of his stallion who of course admired the activities of his master greatly.

Slowly the wrinkle on his forehead, Altaïr didn't even realized he had set, vanished.

While tending to his horse he thought about his last mission.

Again a man of great influence and wealth threatening citizens with his imense will to profit and leaving a path of destruction and sorrow.

Altaïr was glad to end his life. He felt no remorse. No sympathy. No more. This man was like all others.

And gladly all had gone according to plan due to his ever so explicit preparations.

During all this years passing through the training as an assassin and later the life and work as such, the realization of his change from a open-minded, questioning young man to a coldhearted, uncaring, impassive and selfish one remainded beyond his grasp.

Even close friends didn't get through him, were not able to manage derailing his train of isolation ending in loneliness.

So he was left in this world to continue further and even further without hope of another option.

When he finally was done with the endless care, he led the horse to a range dismissing him with a light slap.

Turning and heading to the kitchens it was now time to take care of himself for he felt hunger emerging.

* * *

Maïssa admired her handiwork. Constantly kneading and moving led to her now perfectly mixed dough she was well known of back in Jerusalem. A smile crept over her features.

She didn't figure out exactly _why _she was so good at this kind of work. Her mother taught her all she knew and Maïssa only enjoyed to modify and add something to the recipes to bring the meal to perfection. Maybe, she thought, the reason was because she did all this with her heart and soul.

On the other hand she might be good at cooking and baking but at least she thought there were no other prominent skills and Maïssa considered herself rather plain.

She couldn't stand everything else that was counted among female labor and was relieved that in Masyaf even the laundry of the servants was done by a group of maidens detailed to wash and tend to clothing.

After bringing her dough to another servant for him to take over the rest of the job the young woman headed out to overlook the progress of the other meals for breakfast.

* * *

The inhabitants of the castle of Masyaf didn't have fixed mealtimes, meeting only to dine with big company or on special occasion.

In the hall Altaïr was now entering, usual there was a food counter with fruits, loafs of bred and other cold food and everyone could take they found most appropriate.

Knowing that this spared remaining food waiting on said counter would be of the previous day, he didn't want to accept the delay like three of his companions, who were already sitting at a table in the room.

Altaïr grimaced, they were too early, just like him.

Although he had learned undemandingness during his membership of the brotherhood, he didn't want to wait any longer for a uniquely prepared breakfast and noticed his upcoming annoyance.

Sneaking straight to the kitchen he decided to snatch one of the recently finished breads like he used to and already smelled them through the corridors.

He grew agitated. Only round the next corner and passing the big, impressive gate and he would have reached his destination.

When he stepped inside the kitchen a dozen of servants was bustling around. Three of them at the oven trying to place bread on the perfect spot so it could be baked, five of them kneading, flavoring, meassuring, cleaning or washing all around. The rest was walking in and out bringing and collecting everything from dishes to food.

In their haste nobody noticed Altaïr. _As always,_ he smiled knowingly.

Determined he approached the table on the right with prepared food in all its variety just grabbing a piece of bread- -

"Stop!"

Stopping short Altaïr frowned irritated and turned slightly to his left side.

There she was. This little, clumsy girl from yesterday.

She was standing in front of him with her hands on her hip and an angry frown on her rather cute face along with a streak of flour.

Would he not perish by hunger and feel the agonizing pang of being deprived of his breakfast he could have laughed at her act and admired her bravery.

But he did not laugh, or admired. He was irritable.

He would not let himself be ripped off this silly piece of bread by that petty servant girl!

Cockily quirking an eyebrow he quickly took the loaf without ever breaking eye-contact and then turned around making for the exit.

She was quicker than he thought he could reach the door.. all of a sudden she stood between him and this blasted door.

Still this merciless frown firmly placed on her forehead and her hands on her hip he noticed that she was quite well-built but short. Shaking himself from this thoughts he began to wonder why she did not seem to have any fear or respect towards superiors while he literally towered over her.

"Who do you think you are?" Now she pointed with her index finger at him as well.

An icy silence was lurking in the room. The servants had stopped dead in their tracks when they heard her speak.

_She isn't going to…, is she..?_

"In case you didn't notice: We have got a well-ordered structure in this working area I kindly ask you to respect. I recommend warmly to you **not** stealing anything from this kitchen or – and that I ensure you – you will end up missing your breakfast in the future!"

Barely having any control over her outburst, Maïssa's voice raised more and more each word she spoke before finally the rest of her speach was shouted quite fierily towards him.

To top his awkwardness Altaïr and Maïssa were in the spotlight of the servants listening intently and they now turned their heads directly to Altaïr curiously awaiting his response.

Somewhere in the background a cabinet door slammed shut.

He blinked watching her carefully and although he was a little bit surprised he didn't aticipate her fit of temper, not in the least.

Condemning a slight trace of guilt, he prepared his well known stubbornness to hurl at her something that would let her find her place in this world she seemed to have forgotten. Let's give her a taste of her own medicine…

But he didn't stand a chance.

"Now that you already have mauled this," she groaned in exasperation waving and pointing at his stolen goods cutting him off, "no one else would want it! Mark my words," again this threatening pointer finger, "I will not tolerate such manners. A good day to you."

And she walked past him making a sideswipe ever so strongly to add authority to all of this.

_The nerve of this woman! _

He threw a murderous glance after her while she disappeared into the next room.

He pondered wether he should follow her but dismissed the thought. The next meeting he would give her some private lessons about respect, that was for sure.

His eyes wandered back over to their shared audience standing with their mouths wide open staring after her retreating form.

When they turned to him noticing his seething look the little crowd hurried quickly away pretending as if nothing had happened.

All of a sudden the kitchen was as he came upon it a few minutes ago.

He didn't dream all of this, did he?

Looking at his _stolen _goods in his hands he shrugged, at least he got what he wanted in the first place.

He sighed quietly. What was wrong with this world? Even women didn't know their place anymore…

* * *

Maïssa was on her way to her room.

After spending half of the day preparing all sorts of food and the other part till late afternoon scheduling the next day she needed a little break.

She loved her new work, Raul even let her supervise some servants after he had observed her talents.

Walking through the huge hallways she thought back to yesterday and immediately put on a face. Since this embarrassing incident, she concentrated precisely which turn and corridor she chose. She was very reluctant to enlarge her bruise on her hip.

Maybe this humiliating feeling was the reason she took the liberty to speak to this man inappropriately and overstepped her mark this morning.

But then he didn't think he was the only one recognizing the other from yesterday's encounter, did he?

Even if the hole debacle was a total mess-up she at least _did_ recognize him in the kitchen.

She believed she needed to take her anger out on him somehow.

It was so confusing; it was pretty much the same. She did have experienced such disrespecting behavior of men before, if not even worse. Why then fuss over this _one_? Normally she really got along with men, it didn't matter wether drunk, rude or just arrogant.

_Calm __down, dear. _

Suddenly she stopped her walk and pinched the brigde on her nose, hard.

"Argh…" she groaned.

It was enough to drive you up the wall! Why did she act out of character, so unabashed?

Two women with pots approached Maïssa and stopped their chat when they noticed her disheveld state.

Maïssa smiled apologetically and exasperatingly moved on.

_Get a grip! Time to focus!_ She was relieved when her room came in sight.

* * *

During his day it seemed Altaïr didn't get anything right, all was a mess.

Starting with a ride to the village and surrounding area he ended up on chasing after his usual obedient horse after it was scared by a sudden fall of rocks at the hillside just in front of the two throwing him off.

Furthermore the bath he desperatly needed when coming home was denied because the bath house was overcrowded. Fancy that!

To make matters worse he was now in the middle of a battle practice with a student, sweat was dripping from his brows, his clothes were sticking to him disgustingly like a second skin, and he was beginning to loose this damned battle.

But why all of this? Surely it wasn't because of this annoying servant girl he didn't even know the name of!

He couldn't concentrate nor comprehend anything what happened till he felt himself lying on his back the sword of his student pointing at his throat.

_Could a day possibly __run any better than this_? He thought cynically.

Knocking the sharp object away from him angrily, Altaïr stood stalking away from the practice field frustrated with himself.

"Train some more together!" he barked to his audience of students before starting to bustle away.

* * *

After getting some rest in her room in peace, Maïssa wanted to take a stroll to the garden to take off her mind of the past events before she was needed again in the kitchen. Some of her new found friends recommended this place to her if she needed time on her own to relax surrounded by a breathtaking flora.

To get to the said garden she needed to walk by the training grounds.

There, a fight was in full swing.

Many men, a lot of them clad in the robes of assassins she noticed, were gathered around the place.

She decided to have a little look-around.

Moving slowly to the center she realized it was very hard to get through the crowd and cursed her small size.

She noted the reluctance of the viewers to move aside, so it appeared to be a fight of utmost importance.

A glimpse of white robes dancing in the middle of the crowd came into view. Clashes of swords and panting men could be heard.

Frustrated by lack of sight she gave up, turning and starting to move back but then she heard her name called.

"Maïssa!" she jumped, "Something has come to my attention!" A rather strained Malik grabbed her leading her non too gentle away from the battlefield.

"Would you be so good as to explain your dear brother what incident occurred this morning? Raul was not quite well-defined…"

She felt taken right back to the time when she was a ten years old girl and was lectured by her mother for trying to tinge her brand-new tunika with henna. She flinched at the short vision but picked up courage quickly.

"Malik, a reprimanding brother ist the last thing I need now…"

He cut her off, "Please don't tell me you lectured Altaïr!"

_W__as he praying?_

She smiled sweetly but Malik knew her better: She was on the verge of bursting.

So he was not in the slightest surprised by the following.

"Surely, dear brother," her smile grew even wider, if not more wicked, "I received the same education as you and have learned that it is wrong to steal! I thought such virtues are highly praised in your brotherhood aswell. Maybe I am mistaken, but Raul has given me the honorable task of leading the preparations for meals till lunch and I do not intend to disappoint him."

Desperately he refused to let go of her arm, "Aye, but you could have chosen your target wiser. That absolutely would not be the most pigheaded, arrogant and petulant master-assassin answering to the name of Altaïr!"

They were silent for a second and suddenly the cheering of the crowd was all that could be heard.

"You don't mean I am in trouble, do you?"

"Well…", he was cut off by a bark of one of the battling men. Maïssa and Malik both looked startled over to the source of the sound.

_Oh no. __There he was…_

* * *

Okay guys, I **had **to stop here. Please leave a review, will you?


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Again, I own nothing. But I do own my character Maïssa and all you do not recognize from AC.

A/N: I do not intend to bore you readers but I try to make it slow into action and develop the characters. Although I did some research about Middle Ages, in this chapter is one little part of it.

**Thank you all my dear reviewers!! You make my day!**

* * *

Part 3.

_Clack. Clack._

Somehow this noise was making Maïssa relaxed.

She was shutting the wooden blinds of her room to avoid the already blinding and hot sun heating it to an unbearable temperature.

The darkness soothed her tired eyes some more and she sighed a little.

Sitting down on her bed once more she fought the urge to lie down and never get up again, to drown in her pillows and let Hell absorb her.

Last week had given her good reasons to do exactly that.

She thought back to the events at the practice field and put on a face at the vision of a very grouchy looking Altaïr stomping past her and Malik with a look to kill...

* * *

When he had spotted the two he had turned to her with a sharp intake of breath opening his mouth and taking a step in her direction, eyes blazing, robe billowing, boots shuffling in a gait of pure self-assurance.

Startled Maïssa had shrunk away at the sight and halted behind Malik's left side, who had been comparatively uneffected by Altaïr's intimidating behavior, standing straight between the two.

Even if Malik had given her a lecture five minutes ago it seemed to her he picked up his role as older brother quickly seeing Altaïr in this kind of mood.

_Thank God his unfailing need to protect me._

Whatever she had done, Malik saw no reason to let her be tackled down in front of his brothers or something worse. Least of all Altaïr had the right to judge over her. This after all would be Al-Mualim's task and privilege.

Folding his arms slowly Malik silently had dared Altaïr, who came to a halt in front of him, to take the next step.

As time ticked by without one of the men to say anything Maïssa had started contemplating if she had left her courage in the kitchen. Or in that hallway. Or even in Jerusalem. Under these circumstances with this threatening man in front of her she was confused to no end and wondered where she had gotten herself into.

Tilting her head to the side she peered around Malik's upper arm then let her gaze wander.

The crowd around them seemed to disregard the three, totally concentrating on the fight in the centre where two of Altaïr's students still were fighting.

"Leave at this, _brother_." Malik's smooth voice had reached her ears ending her little reverie.

"What dealings do you have with her?" Altaïr had snarled, focusing on Malik, head held high.

"None of your business. Now be gone." Nodding his head swiftly towards the exit nonchalantly.

The subliminal hostility between the two was an unnerving addition to Maïssa's disheveled state. Never before had Malik mentioned this potentially ill emotions in his ever so _holy_ praised brotherhood. But she couldn't help but notice the seething rivalry powerful waving off the two.

She had felt the urgent need to faint when Altaïr's piercing eyes scanned over to her.

Boundless anger and wrath had engulfed her holding her in a tight embrace. Intimidation had took her breath away.

Never before had she felt like this, had some_one_ made her feel like this!

Not able to stand it any longer, Maïssa had looked away unsettled.

When he finally started walking away relief had washed over her and she let out her breath she didn't notice she had held.

"It seems he is mad at you." Malik had stated, absently looking after the retreating form of a fuming Altaïr, flatly pointing out Altaïr's readiness to at least beat her into submission.

Turning to her he had a warming smile tucked at the corners of his lips. Then he had rested his hand protectively on her shoulder slowly leading her away.

* * *

Forcing this memory currently out of her head Maïssa changed her clothes from her working garment to a comfortable dress.

When she was done, she silently closed the door to her room and headed to her next destination.

Now was the time when most of the inhabitants of the castle would have breakfast, Maïssa had helped only a short while ago to prepare as usual.

She was looking forward to meet with Malik today; sit, talk, eat and maybe go for a walk later together.

After arriving at one of the crowded dining halls she immediately spotted her brother sitting at a table, already wolfing down his meal.

_So much for dining together._

She grabbed a dish from the counter, provided herself with a load of rice and meat she had cooked and smiled, pleased with her own effort emerging as delicious as ever.

Sitting down across from Malik she greeted him, "Morning. Enjoy your meal!", quirking an amused eyebrow at the sight in front of her. Malik looked like he didn't have this tasty kind of food in a very long time, she observed somewhat proudly.

He looked up at her mischievously, "Morning, sweetheart. I can't tell you how much I enjoy you working here. It's a bliss!"

Locking eyes she knew she wouldn't be mad at him for long anyway for starting their breakfast without her.

"Thank you," she mumbled, starting her own meal, "Though with the past events I start to wonder why I am still allowed to work at this castle…"

"They _tasted_ the reason!", he winked, swallowing his last bite.

She couldn't remember when was the last time she had laughed heartily together with her brother.

If she was with him she always felt free as a child like the old days when no upcoming war was looming over their hearts and souls. They would run through the streets of Jerusalem without destination, playing, laughing, only relishing the carefree joys of childhood.

But as time went by and they grew up they were separated from each other, Malik eventually joining the brotherhood and Maïssa still living with their mother in Jerusalem.

It was fine with her the way it had been, until last year their mother suddenly had died leaving Maïssa behind in this world. She had tried to exist in this now unforgiving city but had to realize the overpowering force of men causing pain and suffering without pity to everyone they considered weeker such as an unmarried woman like Maïssa was.

Malik, who witnessed every single day such violation and crime, had decided to fight for a better world so no harm would ever come to his sister. He had vowed it. So he had moved heaven and earth to get her to Masyaf.

Tilting his head he looked at her. At first it seemed as if his mother in her younger days was alive again and sitting in front of him. But Maïssa had unmistakable own traits that made her all the way even more adorable to him.

Her sparkling brown eyes looked expectingly to him and they smiled contently at each other. She did not wear a scarf and her brown, wavy hair was spilling over her shoulders in a messy but also adorable way.

"Only make sure you avoid the pain in the neck Altaïr," he grinned evilly, "I don't know if I can convince Raul of your devoutness a second time." switching back to the topic at hand.

She groaned, "Don't remind me!" feeling her appetite diminish abruptly. "He could not deny himself assigning laundry duties to me. You know how I hate this kind of work..." Now she was positively annoyed thinking about it.

After three days of constantly collecting water, washing and drying she had had enough by now. Only Hamide, a woman of around her forties and working as a servant responsible for the laundry, was one ray of hope on the horizon. With Hamide's genuine pretty face and open-minded soul Maïssa felt welcomed and secure in her company and held her new friend and ally in high esteem.

Gazing over the crowd of eating people Malik stated, "Remember, I may have a position of influence but it is also limited. After the horse has left the barn it's--"

"--too late to close the door! I know, I know! And I am sorry for causing trouble. But this man is so unnerving and arrogant I wonder why that matter of fact is still uncovered by your brotherhood! These character traits are very unbecoming, you know?" she deadpanned, rolling her eyes at a rate that made Malik laugh.

Finishing her meal she rose grabbing his empty plate and heading for the exit with Malik slowly following her.

After returning the dishes she did not wait for her brother to follow out and left the hall.

Sensing a glare of piercing eyes Malik looked back over his shoulder searching for the source.

It did not take him long for Altaïr was not really hiding from him.

In the shadows his counterpart was leaning nonchalantly against a wall in the back of the hall, relaxed eating an apple, head down a bit with his hood in place so that it was impossible for Malik to see his face. But he _felt_ him staring daggers instead.

Tossing the apple core casually away Altaïr pushed himself gracefully off the wall and took a careful step in Malik's direction.

_Arrogant, indeed. _

When brushing past him, Altaïr stopped short and whispered, "Beware of the tantrums, brother."

Malik smiled benignly, "Fear not. Unlike you I _do_ know how to deal with women."

With that he turned around again heading out, too.

_He absolutely have no clue. Otherwise I would not have witnessed this ridiculous show off of jealousy._

Reveling in this amusing feeling of an unaware Altaïr, he chuckled to himself.

_This is going to be interesting..._

* * *

Spending the rest of the morning with her brother, walking and talking, Maïssa now again changed for work and took her scarf with her to block her unruly locks out of her sight.

Malik had said good bye to head off to his training lessons when she had to make haste to get to the very end of the castle where the cisterns and water reservoirs were situated.

With the help of a hand-operated hoist spring water was piped directly to the castle.

This feature never ceased to amaze her. Relatively effortless even the water of the nearby river could be lifted through a canal up to this area by this construction.

Her new friend Hamide was already waiting, her brown eyes twinkling warmly.

"A good day, Maïssa!" she greeted her smiling.

"And to you." Maïssa answered halfheartedly and weakly looked away. For the past days Maïssa's schedule was swamped. First her early work at the kitchen till midday, without a break continuing with tending to laundry with Hamide and the other wash maids, closing the day at the kitchen again to prepare for the next morning.

This led to Maïssa's drop deathlike and exhausted into bed all evenings.

Today was her first day being granted with the morning off.

She despised this kind of work. Endless washing and scrubbing of clothes were soaking her hands and arms making them vulnerable and raw.

In spite of the hard work in the kitchen day-to-day, she was not used to such new demands, but rather knife cuts due to rough handling.

"Well," Hamide lifted the young woman's chin suspiciously, eyeing her, and sighing when she observed the dark circles around her eyes, and sighed. "You can take the basket over there and collect the dried robes down at the riverside. I'll fetch the water with Amina today." Hamide turned around and walked to the hoist, leaving Maïssa standing there.

Resistance was futile so she grabbed the basket and headed out. At least she would be spared to help carry the heavy buckets.

It took Maïssa some time to reach again the base of the castle. Rearranging her scarf to block out the burning noonday sun when she finnally got out, she enjoyed the slight breeze cooling her down a bit.

She walked past the last guards standing at the narrow entrance of the castle carved in the stone and eventually arrived at the village making for the river.

Although this time of the day was the hottest, a stream of people seemed to never cease, in and out of the castle, and it became difficult for her to steer through the crowd with her basket on her hip.

The air was dry and dusty disturbed by the bypassers and wagons giving her a hard time to breath. She was glad when finally the drying clothes at the riverside flowing in the air came into view.

The noise of the village was slowly fading away and Maïssa drew a deep breath.

Insects were buzzing around at the river, their constant chirping the only sound beside the flow of the water.

Putting her basket down she started retrieving the waving clothes. Without much vegetation at the shore to block out the wind it was rather difficult to collect the robes without loosing them.

She groaned when one of them fluttered furiously shutting her out from view.

When she finally got a desperate grip on it, she suddenly tripped over her basket landing ruggedly on her derriere.

"Uff-- ...!"

Untangling herself from the spilled clothes she heard someone aproaching behind her.

"One really has to make sure to stay out of your path of destruction."

With her mouth slightly dropped open she let her glance drift suddenly coming to a halt when she spotted her metaphorical root of all evil.

She felt her anger rise but tried to control it. Brushing dust off herself Maïssa snorted without looking at him, "Oh, I would agree if it had not been for someone telling me exactly the same about you!", she stood sidewards to him only lifting her head to him.

From her angle Maïssa could see his face still under his hood but lighted by the sun.

She caught sight of a scar running over the right part of his mouth. On his chin and upper lip the stubble refused to grow around it telling a tale of danger and blood.

When he did not answer and broke eye-contact to let his eyes wander to the river, she was satisfied with her silencing him. Annoyed she started collecting the strewn clothes once more.

Hearing him click his tongue she stopped midway, "By the way, is that _my_ robe floating over there...?" She looked up questioningly to him, who pointed with his right outstretched arm to the river across from her.

Maïssa practically bolted from her position when she spotted the defiant, white cloth drifting downstream.

For the rest of her day his loud, deep laughter was unrelentingly ringing in her ear.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer****  
**I own nothing. Not one little thing that has something to do with AC or Ubi. But the rest is mine.

Part 4

**A/N.****  
**Sorry for the delay my dear readers! Some medium-sized writers block and my mother breaking her wrist deprived me of continuing.

If I remembered it right in the game Kadar is Malik's sibling. Now in my story he is NOT, sorry, but I neither had the time nor muse to put on a second brother bothering poor Maïssa.

I did some research as I said in the last chapter, but if someone knows it better (especially names of places and persons) please let me know so I can learn and change. Thank you.

**Again, thank you so much dear reviewers!!** Please do not stop to leave some kind words about my little piece of writing. And I want you to know, that I **will** update, but I am very busy at the moment so it is always a question of time.

Now on with the story!

* * *

This can't be. It was unbearable. He could not stand it any longer.

"Altaïr," Malik stretched his name overly, "You are brooding. Again." He received a blistering glare from his comrade.

For almost three hours Altaïr did not had made a sound. All he was doing was riding, silently, next to his company, looking ahead of them without one motion.

The pines and olive trees, laying alongside the route the assassins were moving, thinned out leaving a lonely and rough path of pepples and dust. The hooves of the horses unrelentingly crushed the surface of the ground producing a clacking sound.

Sighing Malik looked ahead again. The two were riding towards Jerusalem in a rather slow pace. Al Mualim had the nerve to send them on a mission together. In union. This was unusual to say the least. Malik prefered to work in solitary, he doubted Altaïr's possible disagreement in that case.

But nevertheless Malik would not question Al Mualim's ambitions and orders.

Sinan Raschid al-Din was known to be strict. The old man prosperously ruled over the castle of Masyaf for almost 30 years now. His students respected him greatly for he was their trusting leader who had established an autarkic state in the state of _bilad asch-scham_ and had constructed a reliable network composed of like-minded people guided by a religious leader with political ambitions.

Malik was left to wonder why his master was sending the two best master assassins known for their reliability and competence, on a mission to Jerusalem to retrieve a _treasure_. A simple treasure, a piece of gold or something, Malik imagined. This was indeed new to him, no assassination would be needed. And it would be actually the second fact when Altaïr would have an agreement with Malik that this mission would be at any rate challenging for the two.

Raising an objection to Al Mualim's order to only bring home a mere item had earned Malik a half-public denunciation. Next time he would let Altaïr speak first. Trust his undamped need to proclaim everything he deems unfit.

At least Malik would not let his sister alone in the castle with this queer fellow. When he left a day ago, Maïssa had to give him a promise that she would not get into mischief again. Well, he doubted she would stay out of trouble (by all means it seemed to run in their family) but he refused to give up hope anyway. Her _eventful_ life was always entertaining him to say in the least, although there were times he even feared for her honor. As in times when she would not only drop a brick.

She never was sinful or unrighteous, for that he felt confidently, but he was sure her future husband would have got his hands full.

Malik chuckled to himself imagining Maïssa with the poor man fighting in an unbalanced power struggle.

"What are you laughing at?" After hours of riding in silence Altaïr finally started to speak again and hit Malik's train of thoughts dead straight.

"Ah, the high master assassin decided to speak to his brother once again!" Malik's surprised voice betrayed his gladness about Altaïr's raised question, even if it was a grumpy interpretation.

"Well, I wondered what is on your mind that keeps you absorbed in your own thoughts," he stroked the neck of his horse absently, looking ahead, "If I did not know any better, one would think your mind is on that woman..." pressing his luck he trailed off.

Altaïr bristled with anger and suddenly started to ride his horse at a gallop leaving Malik in a cloud of dust.

Despite the evoked irritative cough Malik snorted with laughter at Altaïr's reaction driving his own horse into a faster pace heading after him.

A bit later the men were approaching their destiny. Jerusalem lay ahead of them daring them with its many huge towers and domes, large, stately buildings leaving them awestruck every time the men were venturing to this city.

They left their horses hidden at one of the gates before splitting up and entering the city.

As always they acted like monks walking in stealth, each of them keeping enough space between them so to not cause a stir. No guard recognized the heavily armed men when they slowly made their way to the assassin's bureau of the city, their heads kept bent, hoods deep down in their faces, hands folded in front of their chests, pretending to be lost in a prayer.

* * *

_Good things come to those who wait._

Maïssa was packing her things she needed. She had to hurry, there was not much time left.

It was her first day completely off of work. Even the kitchen would get along without her today.

Raul, being always the strict and disciplined head of the servants, had had pity with her condition giving her one day off to come back to health. The brunette even released her from her tasks as wash maid, for that Maïssa would be forever thankful of. She vowed to herself to not get into that kind of trouble again to spare her from further degradations. Well, she would _try_. One could never know with this provoking fools of assassins all around her.

But they did not count at the moment. She already had her private day's schedule duly completed. It would be a day cherished only to herself.

Starting with a long and tending bath, maybe a little walk in the gardens, she would end up at the village's market place to purchase some things she missed from her hometown.

Neither a demanding Raul nor that annoying Altaïr would get a chance to upset her plans for today.

"Towel, soap, brush. This would be all...," she thought out loudly, putting all things in a little bag, "Nah, shaving utensils!" jumping she turned around to her cabinet collecting the items to do the traditional removal of her body hair.

Heading to the baths untroubled she breathed in the fresh morning air. Walking with her little bag on her shoulder held up with one hand, she gingerly touched the flowers and bushes growing along the path admiring the beauty of them. Striking, all the while defying the ardity and flourishing into the fairest blossoms.

Not many people were walking in this area this morning. Too much of them busy with their daily tasks keeping the castle and village at the foot of it alive.

Maïssa opened the gate of the bathhouse, directly heading to the part with the _Hammam_. A familiar humid air welcomed her along with the _Tellak_.

"Good morning. Everything is prepared, you can go in if you like. You are lucky, nobody is here yet." The young man was smiling genuinely at Maïssa and she returned it gratefully.

Ten minutes later Maïssa eased herself into a steaming bathtub in the middle of a medium-sized room with light tiling. Throwing back her hair she sighed contently. When her sore muscles were relaxed enough by the hot water, she picked up her items from the brim starting her habitual procedure.

"Massah!!" the sudden screeching voice of a little child caused Maïssa to splash water all around her due to her swirling arms and legs and to drop her precious soap into the tub.

This bold lisping infant had the nerve to intrude on her peaceful existence and all the way still did not get her name said straight!

She gave a loud groan of annoyance trying to resume her comfortable position in the tub.

"My name is Ma-i-ssa!" she said through gritted teeth trying to calm herself down. It was after all only a little five-year-old girl marked by lack of maturity.

She continued with a softer voice, "And what exactly are you doing in here, Sehnaz?"

Two cute brown eyes full of childlike curiosity framed by long brown hair with the tendency to curl were staring intently at Maïssa. She was the daughter of Amina, one of the wash girls working with Hamide, and definitely the cheekiest and impudentest of all the children of the women working at the castle.

Maïssa called herself tolerant of that behavior most of the time, but there were times her own limits were reached by Sehnaz. It was not neccessary to add one cavorting child to her own clumsiness while tending to her labor. But without a place to leave her or the other children, the mothers were bound to let them play alone at the village, like most of the time, or be surrounded by them during her own daily work.

"I'm bored!" She whined. Maïssa closed her eyes briefly to keep herself from frowning.

Sehnaz continued unaware of her harassment, "The boys do not let me play with them!"

Silently debating in jest the possibility of anyone noticing the sudden absence of that girl, the older woman mulled over the fact Sehnaz being fond of her like the inseparable sun and blue sky. Maybe it was because the intelligent and strong mind resembled Maïssa's own when she had been the same age.

"Well, sweet, why don't you play with the girls then?" Being already disturbed in her original course of action, Maïssa decided that she could have a small talk with the little girl aswell.

Discussions with her were always funny and witty, but, to put it bluntly, they were leading Maïssa frequently chasing after the bantling, due to her vivacious spirit, too.

Settling with a pout, Sehnaz calmed down a bit, but still whining, "Can't I help you here? Since your husband's out." She began to strive in and out with her little hand through Maïssa's bathing water.

Maïssa chortled improperly, "Ah little one, I do not have a husband. What made you think that?" Playfully splashing water at Sehnaz' face with her hand.

The girl's innocent words penetrated Maïssa's mind unintentionally, resulting in a reflection of her own status in this world. Little thoughts of doubt were worming themselves into her heart.

Actually she was perfectly content with her life as it was. No husband was needed until now. She took care of herself very well, the best way she thought it could be.

Would it be any better with a man at her side? Could it?

Cutting in on Maïssa's thinking, Sehnaz rambled on insouciantly, "Well, one day there was that one man on that one hill, and well he was staring at you, was he your husband?"

She wondered why the young one actually observed this fact when adults, considered being fully aware of her life and situation, were not able to. She had to admit that Maïssa did not remember such occurence. Wrinkling her brow in displeasure her mind wandered to all men existing in her life and the possibility of one special man out of these watching her unseen. Suddenly her water felt very cold and she shuddered involuntarily.

Her musing was again interrupted by an opening door and a berating Amina dragging her daughter away from the tub, scolding angrily and at length and causing a storm of protest from Sehnaz.

After that little amusing incident Maïssa exhaled audibly in a long, deep breath of relief.

She did not give much more thought to what the two had been discussing about.

Finally the soft noise of dripping water was all that could be heard and she relaxed in her still hot water once more.

* * *

Meanwhile in Jerusalem Malik was confronted not only by a sulky Altaïr but also the aggravating and troubled poor district of the city. At this time of the day it seemed to him all inhabitants were out of the streets and aimlessly wandering around or standing in his way, so he was busy most of the time pushing men and women aside and to not arouse attraction. The weather as usual was hot and unbearable, not even a slight breeze was disturbing the torridity.

The house with the bureau inside came in sight and Malik spotted Altaïr some yards away climbing an opposing house without effort. Walking on and looking back down he sensed him literally flying above him from roof to roof to eventually let himself slip elegantly in the opened housetop.

_Damned show-off._

Malik continued walking down on the streets with his hands still folded until he reached an ally aside, imitating his comrade, but choosing the right building from the beginning.

Following the arrival at the bureau and receiving the mission in detail with which he and Altaïr were charged, they were left with one of the young novices to take with them.

The two looked baffled at each other, not really comprehending the need of bringing him with them when there even was no assassination to be done.

Altaïr, already upset by the mission without deathly end, dismissed the confusing situation with it being a stealth exercise course for all of them. Always known as the man of action, not words or emotions. He saw no need to bother himself with this subject matter any further.

Malik eyed the novice suspiciously. Kadar, a young man wearing a tunic with dark sleeves and hood as well as the typical belt with attached sword indicating him as an apprentice, was standing straight in front of the two. Vigilantly attentive. He must be excited to no end.

It did not do them any good if they were too occupied with an unrestrained beginner all the while fighting against the dangerous templars, respectively Robert De Sable and his men, as the Rafiq had told them.

Scratching his stubble in thought, Malik grabbed some cup of water and turned to face a mat with pillows.

There was little time for them before they had to start. He would use it to have a little rest and thinking.

* * *

_Shink._

Altaïr checked his hidden blade. Satisfied with the functionality, especially sharpness, he let it sink back in its familiar place at his forearm. It calmed him down a bit.  
Sitting on a chair, he was nervous, but did not know why. He could not make rhyme nor reason of it.  
All he hoped was that Malik, the old boor, was not right and stopped teasing him.

Otherwise he would make sure, his accomplice had to eat his meals mashed for the next weeks.

It began at Masyaf, it did not end during his mission, the exceptional feeling was driving him mad.  
But he would not, on any account, allow it to gain control over him! Not now, so close to the death of Robert De Sable!

Altaïr looked at Malik warily. Something was still wrong here.

The thought about the formerly mentioned girl crossed his mind. What was her name? He realized that he really knew nothing about her, but on the other side was not able to stop calling her to his mind. He remembered her being at the shore with him. Quite a sight, if one would ask Altaïr. Her light green dress sticking to her lower body, her hip and tighs very precisely appearing, all the while she was desperately trying to catch the disobediant piece of clothing moving along in the water.

Smiling at the forming image in his head, he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall of the bureau drifting off in a slumber.

* * *

Kadar, on the other side, was worried about the show the two master assassins were performing.  
He felt stranded on a lonely island, having the unnerving feeling that the two did not want him on this mission aswell. To what extend the connection between themselves was only competing and emulating or aggresive and damaging Kadar would have to find out.

* * *

At night-fall, the men prepared to leave. Moving through the desserted city the way to where they suspected the entrance of Solomon's Temple, they took the way up on the roofs to forge ahead more rapidly; no need to let you slow down by houses and walls.  
No word was spoken, each man fully concentrating on their arduous undertaking.

Glad that the cruel sun was not up, Malik hopped lightly from one post to another, that were sticking out of the framework of the buildings.  
In the corner of his eye he got a glimpse of fine silver glimmering in the moonlight when the next second the swishing sound of a blade slicing the air just about his head could be heard.

He decided to take his chance and vaulted himself atop the roof and taking out his dagger strapped on his back. His opposer wildly swinging at him in his rush of adrenaline was quickly wearing out and then able to witness his own blood erupting off a gash in his chest in a sudden, violent outburst.

Shortly after the corpse crashed to the ground, Malik ducked low and turned to check whether there were more of them. In a short distance he could make out Altaïr, throwing knife in hand, silently questioning his condition.

Waving his hand okay, Malik stood ready to continue. A shrill whistle teared him out of his desire to move on, but during his reverse a violent boot bruised his ribcage catching Malik off guard. He stumbled backwards yet managed to grab this new guard halting his own fall by using the provided force to swirl him around.

Quickly pocketing his knife Altaïr made ready for a great leap forward on the other roof.  
Scowling he managed to see Malik entangled with the guard a disturbing look on his face, loosing his feet and toppling over the end of the rooftop.

Reaching the end of the house Altaïr half-expected his accomplice lying on the ground besides the guard but he had to smile at the given sight.

The ringing of the guard's blade falling on the street beneath penetrated the stillness of the night along with the extended panting of Malik.  
One arm at the very end of a brick holding him up, the other one gripping his dagger, Malik frantically tried to shake the pertinacious guard off of his boot with the help of kicking and squirming.  
With Kadar eventually flanking him, Altaïr squatted down amused, calmly waiting.

"Need help there?"

Malik twitched violently, the guard gulped. Squeezing his eyes shut in pain, Malik crowed taunting, "Thank you, I'm fine!"

Altaïr could not help but laugh, "Wouldn't want your fine maiden left to mourn about her loss..."

He did not know why he let this thought slip. He immediately felt embarrassed by his own words.  
His eyes grew wide, intimidated. Even here, in this far away city, without no one except the two companions, during this mission of the greatest possible significance, the girl was crawling effortlessly in his soul!

Swiftly Altaïr reached for a throwing knife once more, slaying the guard. Without delay Malik now scrambled hurriedly back atop the house.

"Jealous fool!" Malik boomed out. "Before you kill me accidentally or endanger me any further because of that girl I will have you know that she is my sister!"


End file.
